Little Light
by Meta-Blade
Summary: Luigi's had horrible nightmares ever since 'the mansion'. Luckily, Mario's done with leaving his forgotten, misunderstood little brother behind. (Post-Luigi's Mansion.)


LITTLE LIGHT

Luigi woke up screaming, drenched head to foot in an icy sweat for the third night in a row. Darkness surrounded him and for a moment he didn't know where he was, or even who he was. In a blind panic he reached out for the lamp beside his bed, desperate, needing light, any light at all. His fingers met something warm and alive, and the panic froze solid in his throat.

Immediately there was a snapping sound and the bedroom was flooded with glorious, soft light. Luigi half-threw an arm across his eyes and looked up wearily into the face of his older brother, which was usually cheerful but now etched with worry, brow furrowed as he stood there in his nightclothes with the lamp in his hand.

'Hey, hey, hey. Calm down. Another one?' he questioned, helping Luigi to sit up straight. His arm moved to adjust the pillows and bedcovers out of sheer habit.

_'Grazie..._ yes,' Luigi muttered in response, feeling weak and pathetic as he finally realised he'd woken everyone up again. He could hear Yoshi's noisy snuffling as the green dinosaur, who'd been staying with them for a few days, tried to force his way past Mario while the plumber distractedly pushed him back.

He sighed. Mario shouldn't have to deal with the consequences of having a traumatised weirdo like him for a brother. He should be able to cope with these dreams _alone, _damn it. He was an adult, not the snivelling kid he used to be.

But Mario did not seem annoyed at being woken up, for once. He merely replaced the little lamp on the end table and sat himself down on the edge of the bed. Luigi gazed into the light. Its warm amber glow was so different from the cold illumination of a Boo's pearly-white body... it was comforting in its own way.

_'F__ratello__...'_ Mario began, in the same manner that he always started these conversations. 'You know you can always talk to me. You shouldn't have to suffer these nightmares because of what you did to rescue me from that place.'

'What makes you say that?' Luigi returned, a bit more sharply than he intended. His voice was dry and hoarse from crying out earlier in his sleep, and his throat felt like it'd been packed with stones and shards of broken glass. Yet again he cursed himself bitterly for being so weak, so helpless. 'Maybe I deserve this.'

'No, you don't!' The angry snap caught him off-guard. If he'd been looking, he would have seen the concern that flashed across his brother's expression and vanished in the time it took for his heart to beat twice.

'You'd _never _deserve this, Luigi.' Mario added in a softer, but more cautious tone. 'Now. This nightmare. Tell me about it.'

Instantly the younger brother starting shaking his head. 'I... can't.' Vivid images were swirling about in his mind, bringing every little detail of his dream back to him in sharp relief. Mario's face trapped in an ornate painting. King Boo laughing, the room spinning sickeningly around him until he nearly passed out, the enormous figure of Bowser looming up as the contorted sky thrashed and burned. The momentary, split-second relief when he realised it was not really Bowser, but a robot. The drowning fear when he saw what it could do to him. The rage of angry fire up and down his body, blistering, agonising, the neverending screams.

Stifling a sob, he curled in on himself and dug the heels of his hands into his eyes, wanting to lose the images in peaceful darkness.

It was all too much for him. He wasn't like Mario, brave and powerful and never hesitating even in the face of almost certain death. He wasn't even like Peach, steadfast and strong when kidnapped numerous times by her worst enemy. He wasn't anyone, not really. He was only Luigi, the weakling, the coward, the one whose name nobody remembered. The one who stopped existing when his hero of a brother was standing beside him.

He was nothing. He was just 'Mario's little sibling'. Sometimes he was 'the green guy' or 'Player Two' (that particular one had always confused him as he had no idea what it meant). The worst times, he knew, were when people completely forgot him, and Mario had to explain exactly who he was.

Still, he _had _risen to the occasion and saved his brother from King Boo's haunted mansion. No-one could deny that. He'd captured fifty boos and more regular ghosts than he could count, not to mention nearly experiencing ten separate heart attacks. And in the end his hard work had paid off and Mario had been freed from the painting. He'd done what he was meant to, what everyone had expected of him. So why did he still have to suffer through these seemingly endless night terrors?

Maybe, he reflected, he _hadn't _done everything right. Maybe he'd screwed up somewhere along the line and now he was being punished for it.

Mario sat on the bed and watched Luigi sobbing quietly to himself without saying a word. He was a bit shocked at how much his little brother had been keeping bottled up in the last few days. He knew Luigi hadn't got out of that mansion entirely unscathed; he'd been quiet ever since they got home and had found excuses to stay awake all night. When he did sleep, he invariably woke the entire household up with his screaming.

So Mario knew all along that Luigi was troubled by what had happened, but he hadn't bothered to do anything about it. And now he was feeling something sharp and hot clawing up his insides. It was guilt, he could tell.

He stretched out a hand towards Luigi's trembling form, moving slowly as if he were approaching a scared animal rather than his own brother._ 'Sono qui, il fratello,' _he murmured softly. 'You don't need to keep this a secret anymore. Tell me. Tell me what happened in that awful mansion.' When there was no immediate reply, he added, 'You'll feel better if you do.'

Luigi sniffed, choking back sobs. For one brief moment their eyes met, both bright-blue, one pair frightened and the other kind but determined. 'A-a you s-s-sure...?' he whispered, and Mario's heart ached to hear how broken that voice sounded. How pitiful, how lonely.

It reminded him of when they were small children and had both suffered from nightmares. They'd comforted each other back then, as any normal siblings would. But then Mario had gone off to rescue the princess from the evil Bowser for the first time, leaving his brother behind, and everything had gone downhill from there. Luigi rarely accompanied him on his adventures and as a result, became less and less recognised throughout the kingdom. It eventually got so bad that nobody could remember his name, even the princess herself.

Mario cursed himself for not noticing it before. For letting things worsen to this point. For getting captured in that mansion and forcing Luigi to come save him, nearly getting killed in the process.

'I promise,' he repeated, and after a moment's hesitation reached out to enfold his younger brother in a hug. Never would he make these mistakes again, he vowed. _'Prometto.'_

Luigi resisted for a few seconds, then gave up and threw himself into Mario's embrace with a strength he didn't know he possessed, crying profusely. The memories of that terrible night he spent in the mansion wouldn't go away, but as long as he was here with his brother, and that little light was glowing beside him, it didn't seem quite so bad.

Mario held him tightly until he'd let out every bit of emotion he'd been storing up since they returned home, stroking his messy hair and murmuring soothing nonsense in Italian. Finally, silence reigned.

He waited until the sobbing had ceased completely before he spoke up. 'Will you tell me about it now? The nightmare, I mean.'

No response.

'Bro.' Mario gently disengaged from the hug. Luigi flopped back against the pillows, eyes closed and breathing softly and regularly. He didn't move, even when his brother stood up and gave him a small shake. He just rolled over and muttered something indistinct under his breath.

Mario smiled. He'd fallen asleep. For a moment he was disappointed that Luigi never told him about that dream. It would've done him a lot of good to relieve it, at least... but he seemed peaceful now, free from his nightmares. For the first time in days, he was just _sleeping._

He got up and spared a glance at the lamp in the corner. His hand went out to switch it off. Then he stopped and shook his head, remembering Luigi's distress when he woke up and found himself in the dark. Mario walked to his own bed at the other side of the room, climbed onto it and was asleep within seconds, for he didn't suffer nightmares about the mansion...

The little light stayed on, illuminating Luigi's bed in a soft orange glow like a protective bubble, keeping everything unwanted away from him as he rested.

As long as that light shone, there would be no more nightmares.

* * *

><p>AN: Just so you know, I don't speak Italian at all. I used a translator, so it might be innaccurate.


End file.
